He has written 115 poems for the farmers movement. It wouldn’t do without one today - a day that will go down in the history books. So, he has hastily penned few lines on a page, which seems to be torn out of his grandchildren’s school notebook. A young reporter with a camera and a microphone, as his journalism toolkit, is busy recording and relaying him as he sings his poem for the tenth time to the tenth set of camera and microphone. Another twenty sets of toolkits will follow as the day progresses at Ghazipur border township of farmers, of resistance, of hope (and today of celebration as well).
It isn’t much of a poem, he isn’t much of a singer, the
toolkits that relay him don’t have much to do with journalism, but it is such times,
and within these times it is such a day. A day when they have to get that ‘byte’
from a farmer at one of the Delhi borders. So, there are hundreds of ‘journalists’
here today. The farmers are in a good mood today and even the usual ‘channels-non-grata’
‘the Godi media’ ‘the Noida film city crews’ like ZEE, AAJTAK, etc. also roam
freely.
His words are a rebuke. A rebuke to the supreme commander.
“Annadata ki baaton ko jo pehle maan gaye hote, Ek saal se
jhel rahe, aise halaat nahi hote.’
A rebuke to the supreme commander - who has only a few hours
back put on almost 20 minutes of crafty storytelling performance over national television.
His has been a govt with heart and soul only for farmers. Small farmers in
particular. O fellow countrymen – let me tell you what you don’t know - there
are ten crore small and marginal farmers in our country. O fellow countrymen – let
me tell you we have been working tirelessly for their upliftment. And in this
mega campaign of upliftment of farmers we brought these three farm laws. O fellow
countrymen – thank you for such wide acceptance and appreciation of these laws
(desh ke kone kone mein, koti koti kisaanon ne iska swagat kiya). But I couldn’t
convince some farmers. I tried. Poori vinamrta se, khule mann se samjahne ki
koshish ki - Barricades, tear gas shelling, water canons, lathi charge, shooting
them, mowing them with cars (not any, our minister’s cars), we tried everything.
Anek madhyamon se, vyaktigat aur samuhik - Hostile media (Khalistani, aatankwadi),
hostile police (hundreds of arrest, thousands of cases), hostile party cadres (attack
on farmer protest sites), hostile govt (andolanjivi, parjivi, bicholiye). We engaged
with them to discuss everything in every way - Ye sari baatein desh ke saamne
hain, isliye main inpe adhik vistaar mein nahi jayoonga. Despite such hard
tapasya these few farmers didn’t understood the bountiful beautiful benevolent blessed
laws (4Bs… you know how I like my acronyms!). Diye ke parkash jaisa satya..
kuch kisan bhayion ko hum samjha nahi paye. O my tapasya fell short! I visited
mountains for tapasya many times. You saw
those ‘kodak moments’ didn’t you? I think I ought to do more of these! Anyways,
my apologies. We are repealing the laws. For the benefit of our country (we don’t
ever do anything for any other purpose anyways). Sabhi andolan rat kisan sathiyo
(whoever ever said andolanjivi/parjivi) - go home.
A rebuke to the supreme commander. ‘Anna data ki taakat ko
jo pehle jaan gaye hote, Ek saal se jhel rahe, aise halaat nahi hote.’
His words are a criticism. A criticism of the mainstream
media.
‘Aur media ko bhi jaagna hoga, satya desh ko dikhana hoga.’
A criticism of the ones who choose the side of the powerful,
of the state, of mis-dis-information, of outright lies and propaganda. Some of
these are here today but are keeping their distance from this poem, and if they
accidently record it not sending it across to the studios, to the newsrooms and
editors who see what the supreme commander says as the holy gospel. I ask the
ZEE reporter- ‘Bahut dinon baad aaye hain idhar?’ A sheepish smile and ‘Nahi hum
aate the.’ Can’t help the follow-up - ‘ZEE ka logo utaarke?’ Another sheepish
grin. Media cars, vans, cameras along with the robots who carry the newsroom
instructions have stormed this place today. There are more reporters and
cameras here today than there were any other day since the beginning of the farmers
movement. They appear to outnumber the farmers today! I look up at the skies,
at the black, winged, scavengers in the sky (the Ghazipur landfill nearby is
their home) and text Sandhu bhaji, “The media vultures here are outnumbered
only by the real ones.”
A criticism of the mainstream media – ‘sahi reporting karte
agar tum, na aarop lage hote”
His words are a tribute. A tribute to a farmers leader.
“Arre dhanya hamare Senapati ka, lal hai wo is mitti ka”.
He is of course talking about his union leader Rakesh Tikait.
Nearly a year back, in the very first days of setting up of these
tractor-trolley-tent townships of resistance someone (from another union),
almost at this very same place told me that Tikait will sell out. Much credit
to Tikait for defying all odds and through his ‘tapasya’ allowing this poet to
pen above line. And much credit to him for his leadership and for his tears.
A tribute to a farmers leader. ‘Hote nahi Rakesh Tikait…’ At
the mention of Tikait’s name the gathering behind the poet-singer erupts in claps
and shouts.
As I stand at a short distance listening to this elderly
poet-singer pump all his energy into singing his words, a young reporter and
his smartphone-cameraman walk towards me. Will I talk with them? I point to the
elderly farmers standing nearby and ask them to talk to them. ‘We want to talk
with a Sikh farmer.’ Such specific demands! But in this township of resistance
which sustained with the help of Nanak’s langars, on the Gurupurab day a langar
of interviews is on. Few elderly sardarjis are having tea nearby. It took a
little convincing and encouragement, but soon they are ready to face the smartphone-cameraman
and the young reporter’s questions (Kya aap aaj border pe gurupurab mana rahe
hain? Kale kanoon repeal hone pe kya kehna chahenge? kya modi ne ye faisla UP
chunav ko dekhte huye liya hai? Aap ghar waapis kab jayenge? …)
My phone rings. And it is a very happy Sukhdev Singh
Sangojla on the other end congratulating me. Fate made him a face of the
farmers movement and a symbol of state brutality. The image captured by Ravi
Chaturvedi on 27th Nov 2020 travelled far and wide. He himself is a
simple straightforward shy farmer. He is so shy that despite many requests,
despite him being a face of the movement, he never got onto any stage to make a
speech. For him that one photo was speech enough. For him having offered his
body and having accepted the marks the fiber-reinforced lathis of the state
left behind was all the words that were needed to give courage to the movement.
How to find the words to thank those who made this small victory of democratic
values possible? ‘Sukhdev Singh ji, you deserve all the congratulations today.
For taking the blows for the movement. For being the body and soul of the movement.’
Sun is setting beyond the hill that is Ghazipur landfill. Scavengers
in the sky are heading towards their resting places for the night. On ground the
clamor of microphones and cameras continues. Reports and feeds on youtube /social
media channels of small-independent-reporters carry the notes of farmers
triumph. The big media reports are adding to shouting matches going on the TV
screens by their live-from-the-ground reporting, trying to spin this into a
supreme-commander win/master-stroke/something (they are here today, tomorrow they
will be spinning some other yarn at some other place).